Page 106 of Wicked Sinner
But then I remember the look in his eyes when he found me after the first attack. The desperate relief, the way he held me like he couldn't bear to let me go. The way he's been trying so hard to make up for his mistakes, to show me he can be the man I need him to be.
"He'd choose me," I say firmly, and I realize I actually believe it.
Matvey sneers, clearly frustrated by my continued confidence. "We'll know soon enough. Because one way or another, I’ll get a response from him tonight.
As he leaves, I catch a glimpse of the darkening sky through the windows. Night is falling, and somewhere out there, Caesar is looking for me. I feel sure of it, a certainty that has nothing to do with logic and everything to do with the connection that's been growing between us.
He'll come for me. And when he does, Matvey Slakov is going to learn that he's made a very dangerous enemy.
I just have to hold on a little longer.
26
CAESAR
The warehouse district near the docks stretches out before us in an ominous outline of lapping water and metal buildings, Miami lighting up around us as the night falls. My hands are white-knuckled on the steering wheel as I navigate the narrow streets, following the coordinates our hacker sent over. Every second that passes is another second Bridget is in danger, another second she's afraid.
Another second I might lose her and our child forever.
"Turn left here," Tristan says from the passenger seat, his own tension radiating through the confined space of the car. Four vehicles follow behind us—my men and his, armed and ready to do whatever is necessary to get my wife back. "The coordinates for the license plate they tracked here are two buildings up."
This is a trap. I know it is. It was too easy to find her, too easy to figure out where she’d gone. Like a trail of crumbs was left for me. But I’m hoping that whoever it is that took her isn’t ready for the fight I’m going to put up.
Part of me still can't believe Tristan is here, helping me. Just hours ago I was sure he was the reason that all of this washappening. Now he's the only reason I have enough firepower to feel confident I can get my wife back alive.
"There." He points to a black SUV parked between two warehouses, its windows tinted dark. "That's the vehicle from the street cameras."
I slam on the brakes, and we're out of the car before it fully stops. My men pour out of the following vehicles, checking weapons and spreading out in formation. Tristan's crew does the same, and for a moment, I'm struck by how seamlessly they work together despite the bad blood between us. They’re all professionals, ready to do battle.
"The SUV is just out in the open," I observe, my voice low as we approach the abandoned vehicle. "They're not trying to hide it."
"Because they want you to find it," Tristan replies grimly. "This is a trap, Caesar. They're counting on you coming in here blind with rage."
"Then they're going to get exactly what they want." I check my weapon, chambering a round. "Because I am blind with rage, and I don't give a fuck if it's a trap."
Tristan grabs my arm. "Listen to me. If you go in there thinking with your dick instead of your head, you're going to get her killed. And probably us too."
I jerk away from him, fury blazing through my veins. "Don't fucking touch me, and don't pretend you care what happens to her. It’s not my dick I’m thinking with." It’s something else, a part of me that I never gave much thought to before I met Bridget, but I can only imagine how Tristan would scoff if I said I was thinking with my heart.
"I don't." His eyes are cold and calculating. "But I care that you seem to think I’m petty enough to try to kill your wife because I could have had your fortune. And I intend to proveotherwise—that I can be an ally to you, if you prove to me you’ve earned it.”
He's right, and I hate him for it. This is a moment where I could gain Tristan’s alliance as well as Bridget’s safety—where I can prove to him that this is more than just my obsession with a woman I had a one-night stand with. I force myself to take a breath, to think strategically instead of emotionally. But every instinct I have is screaming at me to tear this place apart with my bare hands until I find her.
"So what do you suggest?" I ask through gritted teeth.
"We scout the area first. Find out which building they're in, how many men they have, what kind of firepower we're dealing with." He pulls out his phone, showing me a satellite image of the warehouse complex. "There are three buildings nearby. They could be in any of them."
One of my men jogs up to us. "Boss, we found boot marks on the pavement near the SUV. Like they were struggling with someone.”
My vision goes red for a moment. If they've hurt her, if they've laid a finger on her or our baby, I'll make sure they die slowly. Very fucking slowly.
"More scuff marks going toward that building," he continues, pointing to a massive warehouse with high-up broken windows and rust stains down its walls. "And there's fresh tire tracks leading to the loading dock on the far side."
"That's our target." I start walking in that direction, not caring about stealth or strategy anymore. The thought of Bridget, scared, possibly hurt, is driving every other consideration out of my head.
"Caesar, wait." Tristan falls into step beside me. "We need a plan."
"Here's the plan: we go in, we kill everyone who isn't my wife, and we get her out." I’m speaking through my teeth, feeling as if I’m vibrating from the inside out.
